The Vaccine
by pacejunkie
Summary: What if Charlie tested the vaccine but the results were unexpected? An Other serial adventure. Slightly AU. Featuring “Henry”, Pickett, Tom and Alex. 13 Chapters.


**Title:** The Vaccine

**Rating:** PG-13/T for mild gore and violence

**Summary:** What if Charlie tested the vaccine but the results were unexpected? An Other serial adventure. Slightly AU. Featuring "Henry", Pickett, Tom and Alex.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lost. _sigh_

**Chapter One**

For the first time in weeks, Charlie dreamed of food. Not washed out wimpy dreams either but total sensory experiences in glorious technicolour. It was culinary nirvana. Spicy curries, hearty stews, steaming pies and puddings like his mother used to make. If it had been any other day, Charlie would have slept late, savouring the aromas of a mere fantasy, knowing that all he was going to wake up to was another day of mangos and fish, fish and mangos, mangos and fish and the occasional banana or papaya on a good day. It was becoming a monotonous metaphor for life on the island. They hadn't even had boar meat in weeks since the animals migrated out of the area, too smart for the hungry human predators.

He missed the variety. He missed restaurants--Italian, Chinese, Indian. He missed carbs--pasta, bread, rice. Years of a serious drug habit had already wasted his body thin, when money was spent on more important things than food and an appetite was a distant memory. He didn't need the Island Atkins diet.

Charlie would have indulged in his insatiable dreams, except that this day was different. Last night they had found food.

Charlie had returned from a two day hike across the island and back in search of the balloon that the man that called himself Henry Gale claimed to have crashed in. He had returned with Sayid and Ana-Lucia, exhausted and soggy after trudging through the thick mud and pouring rain for hours. All he had wanted was the relative shelter of his tent, some clean clothes and a dry blanket to sleep on.

Before they had reached their camp, they had been intercepted by Kate and Jack, torches aloft, standing in front of a large……something. In the dark Charlie couldn't tell what it was at first but it was huge; covered by a tarp and some kind of net with a big white strobe light on top, the kind that usually signaled a warning or road hazard. Charlie's fatigue had been temporarily displaced by his curiosity. As he got closer he had seen what had appeared to be a collection of packing crates under the crude covering which was looking more and more like a parachute.

"What the bloody hell is that?" he had blurted, although Jack seemed more interested in the news that Sayid had about what they had found on the North shore of the island. It turned out that while they were gone, Henry had escaped, no doubt already aware of what Charlie and the others would find.

Charlie didn't care about the fate of their mystery prisoner. He wanted to know what was in the crates. So while Sayid relayed their story to Jack and Kate, Charlie had done his own investigating and discovered food--boxes and boxes of food that seemed to have quite literally fallen from the sky. No one could explain where it had come from but there it was, like an answer to all his prayers. Of course his first prayer had involved a rescue boat but this was the next best thing.

For the time being however, Charlie had to grudgingly agree that what they had discovered about their former captive was more pressing than the mother lode in front of him. At the moment it wasn't going anywhere and it couldn't be sorted through in the dark at any rate. The food would have to wait until morning, but Charlie had already decided he would be first in line when the sun came up. So he had set his internal clock for an early wake up call, went to sleep that night and dreamed sweet dreams of food, glorious food.

But gossip on an island spreads faster than a tropical heat rash and by the time Charlie awoke and made his way to the drop site, it was no longer his dirty little secret. People were running to the clearing in hordes, eyes wide and teeth flashing like piranhas. _Honestly, you would think these people hadn't eaten a thing in months._ Some were making their own little piles of claimed booty at their feet, others were fighting over boxes of cereal, calling dibs like children in a schoolyard. Libby, their resident psychologist and level head, was trying in vain to appeal to reason and restore order. While chaos reigned around him, Charlie was quietly busy making his selections for his own private larder.

As people debated the relative merits of canned peas and oatmeal, Charlie looked deep into the bottom of an emptied out crate and noticed something different. It appeared to be a small brown briefcase, somewhat smaller than the gun case and larger than Locke's travel backgammon board. Clearly the others were more concerned about the food; the case had been left behind, abandoned like lost luggage. Scanning around quickly, satisfied for once that no one was paying him any attention, Charlie reached in and removed the object by the handle.

On either side of where he grasped it were two simple latches. Embossed on the side of the fake leather lid was a large symbol of the Dharma Swan station. Charlie lowered the case down to where he had placed his food pile, the sightlines of others obscured by the large crates that were still being rooted through. He knelt down, flipped the latches open and cracked the lid to allow a small peek at the contents. He saw several vials encased in foam and a large device of some kind. Charlie decided he wanted to investigate his find further in private, so he stashed the case in his shoulder bag, swept up his share of the food in his arms and stole away.

Once Charlie was secure in the relative privacy of his tent he opened the case fully. Inside were eight small glass vials each containing an amber liquid. He removed one of the vials and held it up to read the label. At the top was a code number that looked familiar: CR4-81516-23 42. They were the same numbers that were entered into the hatch computer. Below that in red it stated "for injection" and below that was the identification Rx-1. The device had to be what you injected it with. It reminded Charlie of that gun they used for ear and body piercings. Taking it out and inspecting its design, Charlie was relieved to see it was an air injector because he had seen enough needles to last a lifetime.

On the back of the label were directions stating that the user was to inject the medication every nine days. Charlie searched the rest of the case. There was no information indicating what the medication was for. Then he remembered Claire. Two weeks prior Claire had gone into the jungle with Kate in search of a medical hatch and some kind of vaccine. Libby had helped Claire to retrieve the memories of her abduction by Ethan and the information had traveled the island grapevine from Libby to Hurley to Charlie. Although Claire wasn't speaking to him at the time, Charlie managed to learn that Aaron had been sick.

Claire had hoped to find a vaccine she had been injected with while pregnant. She believed it would help him. This case had clearly been left among the food supply with the intention that it be used by the person in the Swan station. Therefore, Charlie reasoned that if there were an island sickness, this had to be the vaccine.

There had been rumours of a "sickness" on the island since that mad bird Rousseau had spoken of it. Claire was one of the faithful adherents to this belief, although Jack had dismissed it out of hand as he typically did with anything he couldn't see, hear, smell, touch or taste. That was why although Charlie briefly entertained the notion of showing the vials to Jack, he quickly put the thought out of his mind. If Jack didn't believe there was a sickness he certainly wouldn't condone the use of a mysterious vaccine. He might even insist on taking it from Charlie, in that peculiar paternalistic manner that he had.

What was important to Charlie was not what Jack believed, but what Claire did, and Claire believed there was a sickness and a vaccine that would prevent it. Still, Charlie wasn't completely reckless. He wasn't going to hand her a medication to give to herself and the baby without knowing if it was safe. The only way he would give it to her was if he had first tested it out on himself.

That decided, Charlie selected a vial and inserted it into the injector. He was slightly nervous after all, he wasn't a complete fool, but he knew how badly Claire had wanted this vaccine. Despite the vast amount of substances he had taken into his body in his life without regard to his personal safety, this time he hesitated. Then he took a deep breath and told himself it was no worse than a measles shot and before he could change his mind, he pressed the injector against his bicep, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

He heard a hissing sound as the drug was released and felt a bit of pressure at the injection site and then that was it. He sat absolutely still for a moment afterwards expectantly as if he thought he might begin speaking in tongues or sprouting another limb. When nothing out of the ordinary happened, he relaxed, returned the vial and injector to the case and hid it away under his pile of clothes and suitcases. Charlie's plan was to wait a few days, make sure there were no ill effects and then hand the case over to Claire. Then he tore into a box of crackers and indulged in his first carbs in two months.

**Chapter Two**

It was late in the afternoon and Aaron was long overdue for a nap. But at a month old, the infant had not quite reached the stage where he listened to reason. Claire didn't know much about a baby's development, but she was sure that rolling over had to come first.

Nevertheless, Claire pleaded with him as she paced around her tent like a caged animal trying as hard as she could to get Aaron to fall asleep. Instead, the baby fussed and wriggled in her grasp, little hands curled into fists in a newborn version of defiance. Hair hanging in her eyes, feet aching, Claire was worn out. Aaron had already skipped his morning nap and if he didn't fall asleep soon he was going to come face to face with crazed psycho mommy at her wits end. Her shoulders tensed until they were practically touching her ears and her muscles felt as stiff as tree limbs. Just then Aaron's complaints began to develop into actual howls and Claire felt like howling right along with him.

Her display of maternal agony did not go unnoticed. Charlie appeared beside her, with a smirk on his face that he seemed to be trying very hard to suppress. In each hand he held two long pieces of lumber cut to resemble poles and he was dragging the ends behind him. Claire stopped her pacing and looked at him, waiting for him to tell her what he wanted from her. She was in no mood for a friendly visit. The truth was they hadn't been friendly in a long time so she was surprised to even see Charlie there. Hoping to dispatch him quickly and get on with her business at hand which at the moment was raising the volume of his howls into full blown screams, Claire decided to speak first.

"What do you want Charlie?" she asked impatiently, hoping like mad he wasn't going to make some wisecrack about the state she was in.

Charlie seemed so surprised that she even spoke to him that he dropped the smirk and became flustered, "Oh. Uh……Eko and I have been cutting wood for the church we're building. Over there" he indicated with a glance over his shoulder, "and well, I remembered a while back you talked about enlarging your tent and we had some extra wood and all……"

He shrugged and left the rest of his sentence hanging shyly as he dropped his head to inspect his shoes once his meaning was across.

It was Claire's turn to suppress a smile. _No wisecracks, just Charlie being thoughtful. _It was a quality she had forgotten about in her anger. Aaron's cries brought Claire back to the present. As she snapped back to attention she remembered her manners.

"Thank you" she said, and returned to bouncing the bundle in her arms.

Charlie laid the wood down carefully alongside her tent, brushing his hands off on his dirty, faded jeans. That was when Claire noticed that he wasn't leaving. He was standing there watching her with curiosity, looking like he wanted to say something. Claire looked at him with an expression of raised eyebrows to allow him an opening to get out whatever else it was he wanted to say.

"Looks like you're having a bit of trouble," he observed.

"Oh no, everything's fine" Claire responded lamely.

She punctuated her sentence by increasing her bouncing to seismic levels and raising her shoulders to new heights. She felt the beginnings of a headache coming on which was just what she needed to perfect this bloody awful day.

Charlie clearly wasn't buying it. "Can I help?" he offered.

Claire resumed her well worn path going counter clockwise around her tent. "No thanks. I've got it" she insisted.

If there was one thing she didn't want at that moment, it was Charlie's judgmental parenting advice. She was still stinging from the last time he admonished her for waking the baby up at night when she heard Shannon screaming. It wasn't so much what he had said, since he had turned out to be right, but the way he had said it, as if she was useless as a mother and she had no sense at all. The memory caused her to quicken her pace. She was now attempting to quiet Aaron with large shushing sounds which she realized even as she did it was hopeless and a bit absurd. Charlie just stood there and kept watching her in mild disbelief.

"Did you try singing a song?" he suggested. "That used to work for me when he did that", pointing to a wailing Aaron as he said it to indicate what he meant by _that_.

Claire sighed, her frustration showing, "Yes, I've tried that. I've tried bloody everything."

"Well, you seem tense" Charlie observed, undeterred, "Maybe he senses your tension and its making it worse. It's like a vicious cycle, yeah? Do you want me to try?"

Claire stopped circling. Clearly nothing she was doing was working and as much as she hated to admit it, she really was tired and anxious for anything that would allow her to take a break. Still, she hesitated. It would be the first time Charlie had held Aaron since taking him from Claire's tent for a midnight baptism. She still hadn't forgotten, although she knew Charlie well enough to understand that he never meant to hurt her or the baby. It was a series of unfortunate events that brought Charlie to an act of desperation that night, even though she had yet to fully understand it all.

Finally Claire let out a heavy sigh and nodded, handing Aaron over to Charlie. As she released him her arms practically flew up from the sudden feeling of weightlessness. She only had to see the look on Charlie's face now as his arms wrapped protectively around her son to know how he felt about Aaron. Charlie was beaming like a 100-watt bulb and unlike Claire he could not have seemed more relaxed.

Charlie looked down at the baby in his arms and spoke soothingly, softly, "Hey, little mate. Have you been giving your mum a hard time? You really shouldn't do that you know, after all she does for you."

Claire watched as Charlie swayed in a gentle rhythmic motion that could not have been more unlike Claire's frantic jiggling. Aaron was still crying, but his sounds were no longer ear splitting and his fists had opened. Claire didn't know if Aaron recognized Charlie or if it was simply the change that got his attention, but whatever it was, it was working. Claire was rapt.

Charlie glanced at Claire and, appearing to notice the attention he was getting, self consciously turned his back and took a few steps away from her. Then she heard him start to sing, in the quietest of voices, barely audible but sweet and angelic, a song she remembered as a child.

_You are my sunshine,_

_My only sunshine,_

_You make me happy,_

_When skies are grey._

_You'll never know dear,_

_How much I love you._

_Please don't take my sunshine away._

Claire was so lost in the moment that she hadn't even noticed her one wish had come true. Aaron was quiet. When Charlie finished singing he slowly turned back around to face Claire, an enormous smile and look of triumph on his face. Aaron was asleep.

Claire was amazed at what she had seen. Softly, still entranced by the song herself, she said, "That was lovely."

Charlie blushed, clearly embarrassed but also pleased with himself as he smiled and shrugged, "I only remember one verse. My mum used to sing it. She had a beautiful singing voice."

Claire felt a pang of sympathy hearing Charlie's memories of his mother. He so rarely talked about his family that Claire often wondered what his childhood had been like. Based upon his history of drug use, she suspected that much of it was unpleasant.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, eyes looking everywhere but at each other. Claire didn't know what to say next. Fortunately, Charlie broke the spell by walking over to Aaron's crib and carefully easing him down so as not to wake him. The baby gave an adorable little yawn and a stretch with his pudgy arms, the kind that makes a mother immediately forget the hours of aggravation she had just experienced. He then settled right in for what Claire hoped would be a good long nap.

Claire was smiling as she watched them, until she found herself speaking her thoughts out loud. "You were always so good with Aaron" she said, straining to hold back her emotion.

Charlie straightened up from the crib and looked at her. "Claire, you're a good mum" he assured her, as if he sensed the insecurity behind her compliment. "Sometimes it just helps for the baby to see a new face once in a while. It might help you to feel a little less stressed out as well."

Claire nodded, feeling a bit ridiculous for her self pity when Charlie had only helped her liked she had asked. "Well, thanks again, really, for helping with Aaron" she had suddenly remembered why Charlie had come in the first place, so she added, gesturing to the cut lumber on the ground, "and for the wood".

"If you want me to I can come back tomorrow and help put the wall up" said Charlie, flinching slightly as if he was preparing himself for her rejection.

Claire found it endearing. "Sure" she said.

**Chapter Three**

That night Charlie lay awake in his tent, smiling to himself and reflecting upon his positive encounter with Claire. When he had come up with the idea of bringing her the wood, he had never expected it to go so well. She was actually speaking to him again. He had missed her and Aaron; every time he thought of them it brought back a twinge of pain deep in his heart over the mistakes he had made. He was grateful for the second chance she seemed to be giving him.

The hour was getting late but Charlie's mind was racing. After going over the day in his head several times he thought he might finally be able to unwind and go to sleep but he couldn't. Lying on his back on a crumpled synthetic airline blanket in the sand, Charlie was aware of every sound, every smell, every sensation. The blanket had lumps from where it was bunched up underneath him. The sand contained broken bits of shells and pebbles that poked his arms. Every shadow seemed like a polar bear outside his tent. He felt anxious, hyperaware and he couldn't get comfortable.

Then there were the smells. He always smelled the ocean water but he had grown so used to it that he hardly noticed it anymore. This time it was strong, the salt so concentrated that it stung his eyes as well as his nose. Every breath was like ingesting the pungent aroma of seaweed. He swore he could actually smell the fish that swam in the tide pools, identifying each variety by its unique odour. The tarp that hung above his head gave off the faint suggestion of mildew. Charlie could smell the moss on the nearby trees and the funk of the decaying organic matter of the jungle. The scents mingled with one another, creating an all new offensive sensation.

As if that weren't enough, the island was also too loud; louder than he had ever remembered it. During the day the beach bustled with activity but the nights were typically still and peaceful, with the only sounds coming from the gentle whooshing of the waves and the light crackle of the last dying embers of campfires, combining to form a tropical lullaby. Tonight Charlie found the beach downright noisy. The waves roared in his ears, campfires popped like fireworks and Charlie swore he could hear the murmuring of every conversation, every bit of pillow talk that was taking place in the tents surrounding him. He heard the leaves rustling with the wind in the jungle along with the calls of birds, the chirps of tree frogs and insects. It was absolutely maddening. The more he tried to block it all out the worse it became.

His heightened senses caused him to feel energized, charged. Charlie fidgeted so much in nervous agitation that he finally sat up, whipping his head around checking for intruders at every sound, jumping at shadows. His heart raced as he felt a rush of adrenaline and he began to sweat. He didn't know why, but he felt like prey.

Finally, when it was clear that he wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon, Charlie got up and left his tent. He thought a walk might help calm him down. He strode along the edge of the beach where the jungle met the sand, lit by the moonlight and the last of the campfires, flinching at the crunch of his footfalls with every step. As he walked the tree line he continued to hear odd sounds and sense a presence but resisted the urge to keep checking over his shoulder, as if it would prove that he'd finally gone mad. After two laps up and down the beach it eventually became too much for him. The energy required to block out the sounds and resist the sensations was beginning to tire him, which was just what he had hoped for. Charlie returned to his tent, too weary to process anything further and went to sleep.

**Chapter Four**

Pickett crouched low in the bushes, shielded by the thick brush and heavy shade of the early morning just prior to sunrise. He hated this duty, but they all had to take their turn observing the plane crash survivors and reporting back to the boss man. It was lousy grunt work, sitting out in the jungle in all weather, getting eaten alive by insects and covered in mud. It was also tedious, because usually he saw nothing more than ordinary people going about their ordinary business of laundry, fishing and building fires. Pickett believed he was put on this earth for more important things, and he resented having to observe and take note on what time Jin caught a fish or Jack went to the bathroom. It was demeaning.

One was lucky if something interesting happened during one's watch. One time Alex had reported when Locke and Boone had found the hatch of the Swan station. That was big news, and Alex was pleased as punch she got to be the one to announce it. Although she just happened to be in the right place at the right time, Pickett had grumbled, it was still considered a feather in her cap and the boss man had been pleased. It was important to please the boss. Pickett had hoped for an event of such magnitude each time it was his turn to go and watch. He could have used the points, but yesterday his eyes had been treated to another fascinating day of hair washing and mango eating.

Then it had happened, and was it ever noteworthy. A supply drop had arrived late last night. Pickett hadn't seen how it got there, and he had been disappointed by that because he had never caught a delivery in process before. Still, he knew the boss would be pleased by this. It had been a long time since such an event had occurred and each load was different, containing untold manner of useful things and some not so useful according to one's needs.

Pickett had watched with interest while Jack, Kate, Sayid, Ana-Lucia and Charlie stood around the large collection of pallets. They were talking about the boss, but to Pickett that was already old news. He had returned to them the previous night, just before Pickett left to start his observation duties. Sayid had roughed him up pretty good, and Pickett was shocked. A person just doesn't get away with that kind of thing. The boss was not a forgiving man and there was sure to be payback one of these days.

After a while the group he was watching had broken up and dispersed, abandoning the task of sorting through the shipping containers until daylight could offer its assistance. There would be no new developments that night. Pickett had withdrawn into the jungle to his small secluded campsite and turned in, planning to be up before the sun to resume his watch.

The next morning he returned to his position just in time to see the survivors swarming like flies around the packing crates. The sight made him forget about the insects, the discomfort and the muck. He took note of the items that revealed themselves from the pallets. Mostly food, which they had plenty of so that didn't intrigue him, but something else did.

While everyone else was making sure they had plenty of cookies and chips to last the winter Charlie was picking up a small brief case and stashing it quietly away with his stuff, eyes glancing this way and that to make sure nobody noticed. It didn't look like the kind of thing that contained food. It reminded Pickett of something he had seen around the Staff Station. Pickett decided that whatever Charlie was up to bore more watching. He focused his goals on one single purpose—to discover what was in that case. Pickett had a feeling in his gut that it was important.

He observed Charlie from a safe distance as he brought the case inside his tent. It was times like these Pickett wished he had x-ray vision. There was nothing he could do but wait and hope that he'd have a better chance to discover what the case contained. The rest of the day he saw Charlie working on some kind of large construction with Eko and later bringing some extra wood to Claire. Then he spent some time with Claire's baby and Pickett nearly fell asleep from boredom. A short while later he retreated to his tent for the night and by that time Pickett had given up hope of ever discovering what was in that case.

Then later that night, just before Pickett was about to retire himself, Charlie reappeared. This time he was acting strange. He kept flinching as he walked. He didn't seem to be in pain exactly, more like hot and bothered. He seemed twitchy, edgy; he kept looking around as though he expected something to jump out at him. At first Pickett was also a bit paranoid; he wondered whether Charlie knew he was being watched because he sure acted that way. Then Pickett decided that couldn't be it. He was wired.

Pickett has seen this kind of behaviour before. It had happened to them the last time they had an ample supply of vaccine. It was one of the more unpleasant side effects of the medication. _Could Charlie have a fresh supply of vaccine in that case?_ Pickett and his people had been out of vaccine for quite some time. The last few vials they possessed had been strictly rationed, until none remained. As supply drops became more infrequent and erratic they didn't expect to ever see more. The boss would certainly be interested to know that they may have discovered more vaccine, and Pickett would be the one to bring the news to him. It was a coup even bigger than Alex's hatch scoop. As soon as he saw a squirrelly Charlie return to his tent, Pickett hurried off to report back to the boss.

**Chapter Five**

Alex was busy taking inventory of the storeroom when Tom entered. He had an urgent tone in his voice; the boss had called an impromptu meeting. She quickly set down her clipboard and followed him to the meeting tent. As she walked, she felt a flutter in her stomach. A meeting with the boss was a serious matter. Usually it meant that there was a job to be done. She watched as others gathered, hoping to gain information from their expressions but to her dismay they appeared as confused and curious as she was.

Lately, almost all developments that were the subject of emergency meetings had to do with the crash survivors that had been living on the opposite shore of the island for the past two months. Life had not been easy for Alex and her group since the arrival of the plane people, as they called them. The survivors constantly interfered with their work and some of Alex's people had even been murdered. Then the boss himself was captured and tortured by one of them. The atmosphere around the camp had not been the same since his return.

Although the boss had tried to make it appear that he had not been affected by the experience, Alex had been able to see slight cracks in his calm exterior, exposing the uncertainty within. Some slight hesitation, a waver in his voice, a glance in a far off direction. For the first time, Alex witnessed the boss struggling to cope and it frightened her. She had always taken her courage from the strength of her leader. Alex needed the boss to be strong. She wondered whether she would ever see that strength return as she entered the meeting tent and sat with the others, her family.

After a few moments of anticipation so thick it was choking her, Alex watched as the boss entered the tent purposefully, hands clasped behind his back, followed by Pickett close behind like his master's hound. Alex knew that Pickett had been the last person on watch duty; he had complained to her about it before he set out. It was his least favourite chore. _Maybe he had seen something on his watch. _Alex gripped the sides of the bench tightly with her fingertips, quite literally on the edge of her seat, as she awaited the news.

The boss wasn't one for beating around the bush. His eyes glanced around the tent, quickly assessing the perfect attendance and jumped right in. "It would appear that one of the plane people may have stumbled upon a new supply of the vaccine."

Alex gasped. This was big news. They hadn't seen any vaccine for weeks and didn't know if they'd ever see any again. Alex had been feeling vulnerable without the inoculations. While they had remained unvaccinated each one of them was exposed, in constant danger of harm. Her heart was suddenly full over the very thought that she could feel safe again.

She was so relieved that she was willing to accept the information at face value until she heard Tom speak up, ever the pragmatist. "How do we know it's the real vaccine?" he asked. Alex admitted silently that it was a fair question. During the testing phase, there had been placebos and among earlier supply drops, they had received other medications for common conditions. But there was one vaccine that they had all been searching for and Alex knew what it was. It was the only one they all wanted.

"The truth is we don't" replied Pickett. "I saw Charlie take a case from a supply drop that arrived in their camp. He took it into his tent. I didn't see what was inside, but late last night he was walking around on the beach alone, looking like he wanted to crawl out of his skin." Pickett turned to Tom. "Do you remember what you felt like the last time you had an injection? I know I do." He reminded him.

Tom was silent and appeared convinced. Alex's eyes turned back to the boss, seeking guidance.

Finally the boss spoke, "So Pickett here thinks that Charlie may not only have the actual vaccine, but that he may have tested it on himself. I don't have to remind you all how badly we need that vaccine, but we will not take drastic measures to procure it unless we know it is the one we are looking for. While we are all unprotected we cannot afford to take unnecessary risks. Anything could have been in that supply drop. If Charlie did take the true vaccine there's only one way to find out."

Alex went pale. She knew that when a person was under the protection of the vaccine, they were virtually indestructible. The medication caused their bodies to spontaneously regenerate, essentially shielding them from death like a superhero. Alex knew what the boss was proposing before the words were out of his mouth, and it frightened her.

It was Tom who spoke the words they had all been thinking. "If we kill him and he comes back, we'll know he's got the real deal."

The boss nodded. "Then we may use any means necessary to obtain it" he said.

As he spoke, Alex noticed a wild look in the boss' eye, betraying his controlled demeanour. _It's almost as if he plans to enjoy this,_ thought Alex. _Some kind of revenge maybe for what they did to him?_ Alex wasn't sure, but she believed he was capable of such a thing. He was capable of anything; he was a man who instilled fear in equal measure with respect.

Her thoughts were cut short by the sound of her name. The boss looked at her, wild expression now hidden once again behind calm. "Alex will do it. She will lure Charlie into the jungle," from behind his back he held up a large hunting knife, "then she will stab him to death with this. Within twenty four hours we should have our answer."

Alex's eyes widened and she shook from fear. The way he had looked, she had half expected the boss to volunteer to perform the task himself. Now she came to her senses and realized that wasn't his style. The boss almost never got his hands dirty.

She had performed many difficult tasks for the sake of the group but she had never been ordered to kill before. She didn't think she could do it, no matter how badly they needed that vaccine. The problem was no one had ever said no to the boss. The thought of doing so frightened her more than the task that was before her, particularly since his return. So she waited until the meeting was adjourned, when they had all filed out of the tent and decided to try a different route.

She followed Pickett. "Pickett, can I talk to you?" she called after him.

"What is it Alex?" he said as he turned to face her.

Her eyes pleaded for rescue, "I don't know if I can do this."

Pickett put a comforting hand on her shoulder. His eyes were warm. "Hey kid, have you forgotten what they've done to us?" said Pickett. "Have you forgotten Goodwin and Ethan? If only we had enough vaccine then they would still be here today. We're just trying to protect our people."

"I know, but……" Alex stammered, full of uncertainty.

"Look," Pickett offered "this is too important a job to screw up. If you really don't think you can do it, I'll do it. I'll just need you to act as the bait to draw him out. I'll make the kill. I for one haven't forgotten what this guy did to Ethan."

"But if he has the real vaccine he'll be okay right?" she asked him, still hoping to ease her conscience and find the greater good in their actions.

Pickett concluded her thought, full of confidence, knowing he had managed to convince her "and we'll have what we need and it will be a win-win. So stop worrying."

Alex nodded. Her eyes were downcast but she was resigned to her duty. She trusted Pickett. She would do what was required of her. Alex wanted the vaccine as badly as they all did. They sat together and began to make their plans.

Several hours later they were in the jungle a short distance from the plane people's beach. Alex had crept ahead and spotted Charlie at Claire's tent. Then she returned to their chosen site where Pickett pointed to a large tree. Alex sat down up against the tree and Pickett tied her to it with a rope. Her heart was racing.

"Are you sure he'll come?" asked Alex nervously.

Pickett nodded, "The side effects wear off eventually but if he's anything like he was last night, his hearing should still be pretty sharp. He'll hear you but I doubt anyone else will. You can scream all you want, and I'll be ready."

He finished tying her and went to hide directly across the clearing from her in the bushes. Alex felt the rope taut against the skin of her wrists. She knew Pickett had to make it believable but still she wished he hadn't made the rope so tight. The discomfort added to the urgency in her voice when she began yelling for help. After a few moments of screaming, her throat felt raw and she thought their plan was going to fail. Then Charlie appeared alone, looking frantic. He stopped cold when he saw her.

"Oh, thank God! Please help me." She cried.

Charlie continued to stare at her. "Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Deborah" she said, reciting her well rehearsed lines laced with emotion, "I was in a plane crash. Then these people, they took me and held me prisoner. I tried to escape and they caught me. They tied me up and left me here. They said they're going to take me back. Please you've got to get me out of here."

Without a word Charlie went around to her hands and untied the rope. Then he held her elbow and supported her as she stood, rubbing at her wrists. She was beginning to feel a twinge of guilt. Charlie had come to her aid and helped her virtually without hesitation.

"We were in the plane crash too" said Charlie. "You must have been in the tail section, right? I'm Charlie. Come back to camp with me. We have a doctor there if you think you need one." He reached out to take her by the hand, gesturing with a nod toward the beach.

Just then Alex saw Pickett creep out of the bushes, advancing silently on Charlie from behind. She felt afraid, but made sure not to give Pickett away as she kept her gaze locked on Charlie who was waiting for her reply.

He noticed her changed expression but misread it. "You don't have to be scared." He told her.

Suddenly Alex felt compelled to apologize for what they were about to do. "I'm really sorry" she said sincerely, "but we need to know for sure."

Confusion came over Charlie's face. "What?" he asked.

At that moment, Pickett brought the handle of the knife down into the side of Charlie's head with a sharp thrust, knocking him to the ground. Alex watched with pity as he moaned and rolled until he was on his back, dazed and grabbing at his head, but by the time he opened his eyes and looked up it was too late. Pickett was already on top of him, holding him down with one hand and raising the knife a second time.

"NO!" yelled Charlie with a look of terror, but before he could stop him Pickett brought the blade down deep into his chest. Alex heard a strangled cry and a gasp for air. His eyes were wide open in shock. Pickett pulled the blade out and pushed back on his heels to a stand. Then Alex saw the blood as it slowly spread over Charlie's chest, soaking through his tan t-shirt. His limbs twitched as his eyes slowly closed.

Alex's eyes remained fixed as she stood frozen in morbid fascination at the sight before her. His breathing sounded shallow and strained. There was more blood. He was dying. Alex was horrified. She felt tears of sympathy and regret well in her eyes. She was unaware of anything else until she felt Pickett grab her by the hand and pull her away. They ran off as fast as they could. Alex prayed that Charlie had found the real vaccine, for both of their sakes.

**Chapter Six**

Charlie had promised Claire he'd be back the next morning to help her enlarge her tent and he had kept his promise. Claire was happy to see him. It was another of Charlie's qualities that she had forgotten about. Each pleasant memory drew her one step closer to forgiveness.

Charlie turned up with a homemade shovel in one hand and some vines for tying in the other. Claire had located two blue plastic tarps. The wood was right where Charlie had left it the day before. Claire made lines in the sand indicating where she wanted the new walls to go. As they worked together planting the poles into the ground with Aaron in his crib nearby, it felt to Claire like they had never been apart. The two slipped easily back into their friendship like comfortable pairs of shoes.

Claire held the first post upright in the freshly dug hole while Charlie packed the sand around it. Just as they used to, they played a game as they worked.

"Okay" said Charlie, "this one will be Beatles songs. I'll start with 'Ticket to Ride'. That ends with 'E'. Now you name a Beatles song that starts with 'E'."

Claire thought, "'E', right……Eleanor Rigby."

"Good" said Charlie. He then looked over his shoulder to the baby awake and babbling in his crib, "It's your go now, Aaron. You've got a 'Y'".

Claire smiled. "Charlie, what are you doing?" she said, wondering what nonsense he was up to as she watched him stand and move over to Aaron's crib.

Charlie took Aaron's little hand and lifted it. In a high pitched baby voice he said, "Yellow Submarine", working Aaron's arm like a puppeteer. He then feigned mock surprise. "Well done, Aaron" he said and then turned to Claire, "the lad really knows his music."

Claire burst out laughing and shook her head, "You're mad, Charlie."

Charlie smiled shyly and returned to the work of planting the posts. Claire was enjoying herself too much to allow the game to end. "Come on, you've got another 'E'" she prompted.

She looked at Charlie when she received no response. He had stopped digging and was staring out towards the jungle. All traces of a smile had vanished from his face. He was listening intently.

"Charlie, what is it?" she asked.

He put down the shovel, straightened up slowly and put a hand up to silence her. "Do you hear something?" he asked her.

Claire strained to listen, but she heard nothing but the noises from the beach surrounding them, the usual combination of ocean waves and islander chit chat. "No, what……"

Charlie interrupted, "It sounds like someone calling for help." He took a few steps toward the line where the jungle began. After listening for another moment he turned back to Claire, "I'm going to go check it out. Stay here, I'll be right back."

Claire nodded, feeling a slight sense of dread but not understanding why. She had wanted to protest his command that she stay behind, but then she remembered from her past experience that taking Aaron towards the sound of screaming was probably not the best idea. She now knew that her responsibilities as a mother came first. So she relented, despite her intense curiosity.

Claire fed Aaron and changed him while she waited. Thirty minutes passed and Charlie did not return. She sat holding the baby in her arms, realizing that she did so for her own comfort. Whatever it was Charlie had heard could not have come from far since the sound had carried to the beach, at least well enough for him to hear. She had begun to worry, but she told herself she was overreacting. So she stared at the tree line, willing Charlie to appear.

When he had been gone for almost an hour Claire decided to take Aaron over to Sun and go in search of him, but she didn't want to go alone. If Charlie was in trouble she might need help.

Claire hurried out of Sun's tent after leaving Aaron inside for a nap under her supervision. She was so preoccupied that she collided straight into Sawyer who was walking by with Kate. He caught Claire by the arms and pulled back, "Whoa there missy, where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Sawyer, Kate, I need your help" said Claire, trying her luck and hoping that she caught the con man on a good day. At least she knew she would have Kate's support.

Kate's expression turned serious, "What is it Claire?"

Claire turned to Kate and plunged ahead, "Charlie went into the jungle an hour ago and hasn't come back. He said he heard someone calling for help. I think something may have happened. Please come help me look for him."

Sawyer's expression darkened. "Well hell, mama, why do you need me?" he asked, "I ain't no tracker. Why don't you and Freckles go get the great white hunter to look for your little rock star pal?"

Claire felt her anxiety rise as more precious time was lost, "I don't know where Locke is. I need someone to come now and you're the first people I've seen."

"Well, I'm flattered" grumbled Sawyer, sarcastically, "and here I thought it was my southern charm."

Kate rolled her eyes and set off after Claire who was already leading the way. Kate called back over her shoulder, "Come on, Sawyer, I might be able to find his trail."

Sawyer dutifully followed, but not without a few more barbs for good measure, "Alright, but this better not take long. I got better things to do than go chasing after lost puppies."

Claire wondered why Sawyer always had to put up a fight before rendering any kind of assistance. Then her thoughts returned to Charlie and she quickened her pace. She started by leading them back to her tent, hoping to follow the same path that Charlie had. They entered the jungle at the last place she saw him and walked straight ahead, pushing aside the brush and branches, looking for signs.

Kate examined the ground for tracks indicating the direction he may have been heading. "You said he heard someone calling for help from the jungle?" she asked.

Claire nodded, "Yes, but I didn't hear anything. He said he was just going to check it out and he'd be right back."

"And you haven't heard any sounds from the jungle since he left?" asked Kate.

Claire shook her head. She knew what Kate was thinking. Kate was wondering whether Charlie had a run in with the black smoke monster. At least Claire didn't think so, and she felt at least some relief at that thought. She certainly would have heard that.

Kate picked up some footprints and they followed them. The tracks led them to a denser area and Kate stopped. The ground there was drier and the tracks could no longer be seen. She examined the twigs and leaves that were waist high for some sign but found nothing that gave a clear indication of which way Charlie went.

Claire sensed Kate's confusion. "Maybe we should spread out a bit to cover more ground" she suggested.

"Okay" agreed Kate. "But let's stay in hearing distance of each other." Kate indicated towards the left, "Sawyer, you go that way. Claire and I will go this way."

"Aye, aye, Captain" said Sawyer with a salute, as he walked off away from the women.

Claire and Kate walked for several yards until they reached a clearing where the taller grasses ended. Claire stepped through the brush ahead of Kate, eyes scanning the area. Her searching stopped when she spotted a form on the ground on the far side of the clearing, not far from a large tree. Claire took off and ran out towards the shape that was partially hidden by the grass.

"Claire!" called Kate after her, but by the time her voice carried Claire had almost reached her destination. Claire skidded to a stop and gasped. Then she began screaming. Kate yelled for Sawyer and within seconds they both appeared at her side. Claire was standing over Charlie. He was lying face up in the grass, unconscious and covered in blood. The sight was like something out of a horror film. Claire couldn't stop screaming, even as Kate wrapped her arms tightly around her shoulders and held her. Sawyer knelt down to check for any signs of life.

"What happened?" shouted Claire, her voice breaking through fast flowing tears.

"I don't know," said Sawyer, his expression grim.

"Sawyer, is he alive?" asked Kate. Kate flinched as if she feared the answer. Claire wanted to cover her ears.

"Barely. We need to get him to Jack, pronto" answered Sawyer as he scooped his arms under Charlie and lifted him easily.

With Sawyer in the lead the three went as fast as they could back to camp in search of their doctor. As soon as they hit the beach Sawyer began calling for Jack. People stopped what they were doing and stared at the gruesome sight before them. Finally someone recovered enough from the shock to point out Jack far down the beach.

Claire saw Jack turn at the commotion and hurry towards them. _If anyone could save Charlie, Jack could. _It would not be the first time Jack had brought Charlie back from the brink of death. She had heard about what Ethan had done. The thought of losing Charlie now filled her with a new dose of fear.

Sawyer was laying Charlie down in the infirmary tent. Claire noticed Sawyer's shirt was now covered in blood. _Charlie's blood. _She began to tremble anew and Kate held her again.

"What happened?" asked Jack, kneeling down immediately to check for Charlie's pulse.

It was Sawyer who spoke, "Claire said he went off into the jungle when he heard someone calling for help. When he didn't come back we went looking for him and found him like this."

Jack lifted Charlie's shirt to examine the wound. "He's been stabbed" Jack declared. He tore the t-shirt open in front, grabbed a towel and began pressing down on Charlie's chest to slow the bleeding. To Claire it appeared that Charlie had already lost so much blood it was a futile gesture. Still, she had never known Jack to give up. _He would do everything he possibly could,_ she reassured herself.

After a few minutes Jack checked Charlie's pulse again. Then Claire saw his expression change. Jack sighed heavily and dropped his head. Many people had gathered around but no one made a sound.

Claire moved away from Kate and knelt down next to Jack. She placed a hand on Charlie's forehead and stroked his hair. "Jack?" she said, her question implied in her voice.

Jack merely shook his head, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, Claire" he said painfully, fighting back his own tears for the loss of his friend.

Claire burst into fresh tears. She and Charlie had only just begun to reconcile. By a cruel stroke of irony it was suddenly too late. She looked down at Charlie's face and although he had grown pale she was surprised at how peaceful he looked. Claire picked up his hand and held it. It was cold. Kate stood behind her and placed her hand on Claire's shoulder but she barely felt it.

After a moment Jack stood, still holding the towel, and slowly took a few steps away, giving Claire some privacy. Kate and Sawyer took their cues from Jack and followed. The remainder of the onlookers also dispersed.

The three stood in a tight group at the edge of Claire's perception. She looked up and noticed Jack throw the bloody towel he held onto the sand in anger. Jack was clearly upset. Kate was trying to comfort him. She was telling Jack there was nothing he could have done, that Charlie was already too far gone when they found him. Claire berated herself silently, wondered with deep sadness if Charlie could have been saved if she had only gone looking for him sooner.

Claire looked down at Charlie again and cried out in her despair, her tears raining down on his face and in his hair, "What happened? I don't even know what happened! Who did this to you?" But there were no answers.

Minutes passed but Claire couldn't stop the tears. She didn't want to leave Charlie's side, and hoped that no one would try and make her. She sobbed openly and watched as the drops landed, rolling down his cheeks, and she gently wiped each one away with her fingers. It was then that she noticed something that caused her to freeze and hold her breath. One of her tears had fallen onto Charlie's closed eyelid and it began to flutter slightly.

At first she thought she imagined it, like wishful thinking. Then it happened again. Then she gasped as she felt movement in her hand. Claire looked at the hand that she held and suddenly it was no longer lifeless. This time Claire was sure of it, his fingers brushed against her own in the smallest of movements. Claire didn't know whether to be ecstatic or terrified but she knew what to do.

"Jack! Jack! Come quick!" Claire yelled to the doctor, who still stood with Kate and Sawyer a few feet away. Jack ran over. The look of sympathy Jack gave her was too much to bear.

"What is it Claire?" He asked gently.

"It's Charlie! He's alive, he was moving!" cried Claire.

Jack sighed and shook his head. He spoke as if his words were difficult, "It's likely just an autonomic response. It's a reflex. He's gone Claire."

Claire shook her head. "No, Jack look!" She held up his hand. Charlie's fingers were moving. It was slight, but Claire could tell that Jack knew it was no reflex. She also noticed Charlie's hand felt warmer.

Claire moved aside and Jack checked again for a pulse. This time he found one. "I don't believe it" said Jack, "he has a pulse." Jack bent down closer and listened. "He's breathing," he said, eyes wide in shock. Claire smiled and cried new tears of joy, exhilarated. She didn't understand what had happened, but she was willing to accept the miracle without question.

**Chapter Seven**

The sharp burning pain in his chest was the only clue Charlie had that he was not waking up from a dream. He heard distant sounds first, familiar voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He tried to move but was unable to, feeling so tired that his head swam. Then he sensed someone holding his hand and he tried to squeeze it but couldn't tell if he succeeded. He felt an odd sensation on his face. _Something dripping?_ He couldn't be sure but it felt wet. He flinched slightly. _Where am I? Why do I hurt? _It felt like someone had ripped him open with his bare hands. After a few strained and painful breaths that were not as deep as he would have liked, he struggled to open his eyes.

He couldn't see much at first. There were undefined shapes bending over him. _Staring at him?_ He could sense it more than he could see it. That was how Charlie knew he hadn't just been sleeping. Then everything became a bit clearer. They looked emotional, like they had been crying. He summoned all his strength and tried to speak the first word he thought of. It came out hoarse and small, barely audible.

"Claire" whispered Charlie.

She was the one holding his hand. She was also touching his forehead, brushing his hair back from his face. She was smiling, but looked as though she had also been quite upset. Although he still couldn't lift his head, Charlie looked past her and saw Jack. That clinched it. Something must have happened to him for Claire to be acting like this and for the doctor to be there.

"What happened?" Charlie asked with effort, his words clipped.

Jack was white as a sheet. He had a look on his face like he'd seen a ghost. "We were hoping you could tell us" he said. "What do you remember?"

More people had begun gathering around him, all with the same astounded looks. Charlie just stared back at them. He recognized Kate and Sawyer. He didn't understand why he was commanding so much attention. Then he noticed the blood on Sawyer's shirt.

Charlie groaned as he lifted his head and shoulders slightly and looked down. His shirt was gone. There was blood; quite a lot of it. He saw the wound in the center of his bare chest and felt ill. Jack put a hand on his shoulder, pressing down gently trying to keep him from getting up. Charlie's held felt dizzy so he figured Jack probably knew best and he lay back down.

Charlie exhaled painfully as he tried to put his thoughts together. Finally between breaths he said, "I don't know. I heard screaming. Someone needed help. I followed the sound into the jungle. That's all I remember."

His exposition was rewarded by silence and an exchange of looks. Charlie sensed there was something they weren't telling him. Claire was still holding onto his hand and he now felt strong enough to give it a reassuring squeeze. Claire was appearing calmer now that he was more fully awake. He could understand their concern if he had been injured but why did everyone seem so particularly freaked out? _It couldn't have been that bad, could it?_

Charlie had to know what was going on. He scanned everyone's faces and spoke with new strength, "Why are you all looking at me like I'm a bloody talking corpse?"

"Because you are" said Sawyer in his usual blunt manner, still with the same stunned expression.

"What?" said Charlie, looking to Jack for an explanation.

"Charlie, you were dead" said Jack. "You took a stab wound to the heart. You lost a tremendous amount of blood, you had no pulse. I can't explain how you could be talking to us right now, much less how on earth you could possibly be alive."

It was Charlie's turn to look shocked. "Stabbed? Who would stab me?"

"Charlie did you hear what I said?" reiterated Jack, "You were dead."

"I thought I'd lost you" said Claire, her voice still trembling. Charlie looked at Claire with sympathy but didn't respond. He kept his thoughts to himself, but he was beginning to suspect what could have been responsible for his miraculous recovery.

After the excitement had died down and the crowd thinned, Jack cleaned and stitched Charlie's wound. Claire still gripped his hand, this time for support. It didn't look so bad to Charlie once all the blood was washed off but the suturing hurt like hell. Having Claire around inspired him to put on a show of strength, making the pain a bit easier to tolerate. Jack offered him a mild painkiller but Charlie refused, unsure how another drug would interact with the vaccine already in his system. Charlie knew Jack wouldn't force the issue, likely assuming that his patient was merely reluctant to touch another potentially addictive substance.

Charlie stayed in the infirmary tent that night while he continued to recuperate. Despite massive blood loss, his strength returned at a surprising rate. By the next day, Charlie was able to slowly get up and return to his tent. Once he did, Claire barely left his side, insisting on helping him with whatever he needed to do. Charlie felt like an invalid, but only because of her attention.

Physically, he actually felt quite well, apart from some soreness in his chest when he moved and some laboured breathing with exertion. Jack had checked him out one last time before letting him leave. It was almost as if Jack was still having a hard time accepting the notion that he was really alive, despite the fact that Charlie's wound was healing nicely and his colour had returned to something close to normal. Jack really had no excuse for making him stay in the infirmary tent any longer; Charlie may have been dead as a stone the day before, but you wouldn't have known it to look at him.

When Charlie returned to his tent the first thing he wanted to do was check on the case of vaccine. Since his speedy recovery, Charlie was more certain than ever that the mystery medication had something to do with it. Ironically, although Charlie had first tested the substance with the intention of giving it to Claire, he now wanted to keep it from her, just a bit longer, until he had more information about it. It may have brought him back from the dead, but Charlie was feeling less comfortable with the idea of giving Claire something that had such a drastic effect on the body.

He now rethought his earlier misgivings and decided to turn the case over to Jack after all. At the very least, Jack deserved some answers and Charlie wanted to be able to provide them. He would tell Claire about it as well when the time was right. She deserved answers too, but for now Charlie felt more protective towards Claire.

He also felt less confident in his ability to secure the vaccine and keep it safe, since once word got around of his resurrection, as it inevitably would, the medication could quickly become highly desirable. The island was a scary, dangerous place and people were looking for all the protection they could get.

He told Claire he wanted to rest so she would leave him alone for a while. Truthfully, Claire needed to get back to Aaron anyway and Charlie didn't want to be babied any longer; but he appreciated how scared Claire had been when she thought he was dead. He wanted to be mindful of that and not push her away or be difficult.

Once she left his tent under the false pretense Charlie removed the case from its concealed location in the sand under his bags. He had not seen it since first bringing it back from the supply drop and taking the injection. Charlie opened the case and inspected the contents once again. He didn't know who had attacked him, but at least he knew why he was still breathing. Charlie closed the case and slipped out of his tent to find Jack.

As he headed back to the infirmary area he noticed that people were still staring at him. When he reached Jack, Charlie found that even the doctor was treating him a bit differently, like he was fragile or something, despite what in reality had been an unnatural show of strength.

"Jack, do you have a minute?" Charlie asked.

_There was that look._ Then Jack recovered and said, "Sure Charlie. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," said Charlie, burying his impatience over the question, "Could we go somewhere private? I have something I think you should see."

Jack led the way to a spot in the jungle a few yards behind his tent. When they got there Charlie realized he didn't plan this conversation and didn't quite know where to start. He picked an opener and hoped it would make sense.

"I found something the other day in the supply drop. I think it may have something to do with what happened to me." Charlie lifted the case, flipped the latches and opened the lid. He waited for Jack's reaction.

Whatever Jack was expecting, Charlie was sure it wasn't this. Jack reached and lifted out one of the vials, held it up and read the label. "What is this?" he asked.

"I don't know" said Charlie. "But I was pretty sure it was the vaccine that Claire was looking for when Aaron was sick. She said she had been injected with something when……" he paused. He still had difficulty even uttering the bugger's name. "y'know, when Ethan took her. He said it was to prevent a sickness. These shots were with the supplies so I figured it had to be for someone's protection."

"Charlie," Jack sighed, going into rational science mode, "there's no sickness. No one has gotten sick since we've been here."

"I knew you'd say that" Charlie responded, "That was why I didn't show it to you when I found it. I wanted to give it to Claire, for her and the baby, only I wasn't going to give her something unless I was sure it was safe." Charlie dropped his gaze to the ground, anticipating Jack's reaction to his next words. "So……well, I decided to try it out on myself first."

Jack looked at Charlie like the young man had just told him he was from outer space. If a jaw could literally drop, Jack's did. "You did WHAT?" he asked.

"Yeah, I knew you'd say that too. You're not surprising me so far, Jack" said Charlie, before pressing on. "Anyway, the first night after I took it I felt really weird, hyper, everything smelled funny and it sounded like the volume of the island had been turned up to eleven. I didn't know what it was at first. I guess what I'm saying is that I think this stuff is what brought me back from the dead."

"I never thought I'd say this, but at this point, I'm willing to believe anything's possible" conceded Jack. "The truth is I don't have a better explanation for what I saw."

Charlie closed the case back up and handed it to Jack. "I need you to take this for me and keep it out of sight. If this is really some kind of vaccine against death, people are going to want it. But the effect only lasts nine days and we don't have enough for forty people."

Jack nodded in agreement and added, "Besides, I'm still not convinced this is safe. I wouldn't give it to anyone else before I knew that. I'm going to want to watch you a lot more closely over the next week to see if you have any other side effects…..."

Jack's words trailed off and he went silent. He appeared lost in some thought and Charlie couldn't tell what it was. "What is it?" Charlie asked.

Jack looked at Charlie. "Charlie, we still don't know who attacked you. Maybe it was them, the Others. What if they know you have the vaccine and they want it? You could still be in danger."

Charlie hadn't thought of that. The possibility filled him with a new fear, but only strengthened his resolve. "All the more reason why we need to protect this. What if we had this vaccine when Boone was alive, or Shannon? What if we never had to hold another funeral ever again and the Others could never hurt us? We can't let them have it Jack, or _they'll_ be indestructible." Charlie paused, choking back emotion before continuing, "What would have happened to us if Ethan couldn't be killed?"

Jack put a hand on Charlie's shoulder, remembering the first time Charlie was brought back from the dead. "Alright, I'll hide it, and for now we'll pretend it doesn't exist. When we're sure it's safe and the danger has passed we'll decide what to do with it. In the meantime, if you feel anything out of the ordinary, anything at all, I want you to tell me."

"Okay" said Charlie. He felt better just knowing he was no longer bearing the burden alone.

**Chapter Eight**

It had been Tom's turn for watch duty that day, so he had gotten to see the whole thing. Charlie was back from the dead. It was quite a show. Right before Charlie was found in the jungle by his friends Tom had gotten a first hand look at Pickett's handiwork from the safety of the nearby bushes. He cringed at the sight of the bloody lifeless mess, almost losing his lunch where he sat. No mistake about it, if the man wasn't already dead he had certainly passed the point of no return. Tom was already making his way toward the beach when he heard Claire's screams.

Later, judging by the plane people's reactions, Tom assumed that Charlie must have actually slipped away shortly after they brought him back to the beach. First he witnessed Jack's heroic efforts; then, he saw the grief on everyone's faces and heard more of Claire's unabashed wails. A few hours later, Charlie was sitting up with Claire at his side, talking to Jack, who still looked astonished. This was no miracle. Charlie had the vaccine, the real deal.

Tom left immediately to report back to the boss on everything he saw. The thought that they would soon have more vaccine caused him to quicken his pace, anxious to see this mission completed. He returned to camp by nightfall and sought out the boss upon his arrival. Tom was inwardly thrilled that he was able to be the bearer of good tidings.

The boss listened to Tom's story, his face expressionless. When he had heard everything, he said simply, "Go get Pickett and bring him here."

Tom did as he was told and when they returned together, the two listened with full attention, eager to perform their duty now that they knew the prize was at hand. Tom was proud to have been selected for this mission. He knew Pickett must have felt the same way, judging by the smile on Pickett's face when Tom told him that the vaccine was the real one and that he had been summoned.

When they had assembled, the boss gave his orders in his usual succinct manner, leaving no room for debate. "We need to find that vaccine. Wait until tomorrow night, when their camp is asleep. Tie Charlie up and search his tent. If you can't find it you are to bring him to me."

Although the boss didn't say it, Tom knew implicitly that if he and Pickett did not have either Charlie or the vaccine, they should not bother to return. Failure was not an option. Tom opened and closed his palms and realized they were cold and clammy. His heart was running a marathon. No doubt about it, he was feeling the pressure.

The following night Tom and Pickett were approaching the plane people's camp. There were a few stragglers still roaming the sands so they waited until the last of them retreated to their tents. Tom felt the sweat soaking through his shirt. He tightened the grip on the strip of cloth and the rope that he held in his hands. He had done this many times before, but this felt different, perhaps because the stakes were higher.

He turned to Pickett and waited for the man's nod indicating that he was ready to go. Then they crept out from the bushes, shoeless in the sand, and approached Charlie's tent.

Pickett entered first. It was his job to subdue Charlie so Tom could gag and tie him up. Then Tom would look for the vaccine. If they found it, they were authorized to let Charlie go. Truthfully Tom much preferred to be bringing back a small briefcase than a struggling captive; it was just plain easier, but he would take what he could get. The important thing was to get that vaccine by any means necessary.

Charlie lay asleep in the center of his tent, curled up tightly in a childlike fetal position. It made him look so small that Tom relaxed a bit, expecting things to go more smoothly than he had initially feared. Fortunately for them it appeared that the side effects of the vaccine had worn off completely. Charlie neither heard nor sensed their approach. He didn't even stir. Pickett leaned over his side, his hands hovering over Charlie's wrists ready to grab him at Tom's signal. Tom took up position at Charlie's head and extended the gag.

Tom looked at Pickett. "Now" he whispered. All at once Tom pulled the gag around Charlie's mouth as his eyes popped open with surprise and raw fear. His head snapped back and he started to flail but Pickett held on fast to his arms, squeezing his wrists together and leaning down on his shoulder, holding him on his side allowing Tom to finish tying the gag. Charlie made a strangled sound and began to kick and buck. He was stronger than he looked. Pickett had to apply his whole weight to hold him down.

"Hurry up!" hissed Pickett.

Tom finally got the gag tied tight and then Pickett shifted just enough to turn Charlie over, roughly, face down on the ground, eliciting another cry through the gag. He forced Charlie's hands behind his back and held them while Tom tied the rope around his wrists. Charlie continued to struggle, but he was having a much harder time of it in his new position. Pickett put a knee on his back and held his head down with one hand, a fistful of hair, making it harder for him to cry out. Charlie gave a deep groan and screwed his face up in pain. Tom remembered that Charlie was still recovering from his stab wound. The pressure of Pickett's knee wasn't doing him any favours, but Pickett wasn't about to ease up. The kid was putting up too much of a fight.

"Okay, search the tent" he told Tom as he held Charlie down.

Tom started going through Charlie's things while Charlie watched, helpless. He tore through every bag, dumping the contents out on the ground with reckless abandon and throwing the empty cases outside the tent. He opened the guitar case and removed the instrument, tossing it aside. He pulled out the blanket from underneath Charlie, methodically checking for any hiding spots in the sand where the case might have been buried. Tom stopped when he was satisfied that the vaccine was not there. It looked like they were going to have to go with Plan B.

"Let's go" said Pickett, coming to the same conclusion. He pulled a dirty, burlap hood out of his back pocket and pulled it down quickly over Charlie's head. "Check outside" he told Tom.

Tom peeked out the tent and scanned the beach. Nothing moved. He came back in and nodded to Pickett. Pickett leaned in close to Charlie and spoke in his ear. "Now we're gonna take a little walk and you're gonna stay real quiet because if you don't we'll kill her and her kid. Do you understand?"

Charlie's body went slack as he stopped resisting. The only sound was his heavy breathing. Then the hood moved up and down in a slow nod. The two men lifted Charlie by the arms to a stand and led him out into the jungle.

**Chapter Nine**

Shortly after the sun had risen out over the ocean and the camp was waking up, Jack was making his way towards Charlie's tent. Over his shoulder he carried his pack containing fresh bandages and other basic first aid supplies. The house call was primarily to check on Charlie's stitches and change the bandage, but Jack also wanted to see if he had experienced any other side effects of the vaccine since their last meeting.

Jack was still dumbfounded over the risk Charlie had taken by testing the vaccine. Sometimes he found it hard to distinguish Charlie's brave side from his impulsive side. Maybe a real hero required a little of both. Jack knew the lengths Charlie would go to for Claire, or anybody else he cared about for that matter. In many ways, although he chastised him for it, Charlie reminded Jack of himself, and this awareness tempered his anger.

Jack saw Charlie's tent in the distance and he slowed. Something unusual caught his attention. There were items strewn outside the entrance in the sand. He had to get closer to tell what they were. He saw opened and discarded bags and some of Charlie's clothes; t-shirts mostly and the hooded sweatshirt he often wore. They looked like they had been thrown out of the tent. Most of the clothes had been trampled on, ground deep into the sand. Judging by the size of the mess, it looked as though there had been several people, or at least more than one. Then Jack looked up at the tent and recognized something else. Charlie's guitar had been removed from its case and the neck was sticking halfway out of the entrance to the tent.

Jack felt a sudden wave of panic. There was no way he would have done that to his guitar; Charlie was meticulous about it. Jack bent down cautiously and peered inside the tent. It had been ransacked, just as he had feared. The remainder of Charlie's belongings was thrown everywhere, as if someone had been frantically looking for something. Jack didn't need to think long on what that something might have been. _The vaccine. The Others came back for it, and when they didn't find it, they took Charlie. _

Jack didn't want to jump to conclusions, but the facts on the ground were too compelling. Still, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. Jack thought back to the last time he had seen Charlie. He had given him the case of vaccine for safekeeping. Now he felt a twinge of guilt over having accepted it. If the Others had found the vaccine in Charlie's tent, he would likely still be here. Jack was convinced that was all they wanted. But he also knew that Charlie had been desperate to protect that case. He would not have given up until Jack had agreed to take it. The situation was playing itself out the only way it could have done, and now his task was to get Charlie back.

Jack questioned several people on the beach in the vicinity of Charlie's tent. They had neither seen Charlie since his miraculous recovery nor heard or seen anything out of the ordinary in the night. Truthfully, he realized, besides himself, the only person Charlie had been with since leaving the infirmary was Claire. He set off in the direction of Claire's tent, hoping he might even find Charlie there, so he could chastise himself for worrying over nothing. He found Claire with her baby son. Jack's heart sank when he saw she was alone, his worst fear confirmed.

"Claire" he asked, as calmly as he could, not wishing to alarm her just yet, "have you seen Charlie today?"

Claire looked up at Jack from her place next to Aaron's crib. She shook her head, "No, I was just about to head over to his tent after I finished feeding Aaron. Is something wrong?"

Jack wasn't ready to respond to her question. "When was the last time you saw him?" he asked, hands on hips, his worried expression breaking through and betraying his intent.

Claire slowly stood, awareness dawning, "Something's happened hasn't it? What is it, Jack?"

Jack knew it was no use keeping it from her. At the very least he hoped he could break it to her gently, but he didn't know how. "His tent's been trashed. No one has seen him today. I think he might have been taken last night."

Claire's eyes opened wide in fright. "Taken? Why? Does this have anything to do with who attacked him?"

"I think it does" Jack explained. He had promised Charlie he would keep the vaccine a secret but at that moment he didn't want to keep anything from Claire. He hoped Charlie would understand. "He showed me something yesterday, a case he found. It had an injector and little vials of some medication. He believed it was the vaccine you were looking for. He'd tested it on himself and was going to give it to you when he felt it was safe. Whatever it was, I think the Others were looking for it. I think they found out Charlie had it and that's why they took him."

"Is that what brought him back after he died?" asked Claire, brows tight in concentration, trying to make sense of the story.

"It looks that way" answered Jack. "At least it would explain why the Others want this medication so badly."

Claire was not yet satisfied. "Where is the vaccine now?"

"When he realized what it did he gave it me, asked me to hide it. He was determined that the Others not find it and I agreed with him. I knew Charlie could still be in danger because of it." Jack looked up, clenching his hands into tight fists, berating himself, "he shouldn't have been alone last night."

Claire shook her head sadly. She was burdened with her own guilt. She stepped forward and put a comforting hand on his arm. "Jack, Charlie got into all this because he wanted to help _me_. I couldn't bear it if something happened to him. You have to find him."

Jack nodded, duly reminded of his purpose and the futility of placing blame. "We'll get him back, Claire" he assured her.

Jack left in search of Sayid. He knew his objective but he needed help formulating a plan. As a former soldier, Sayid was the camp's tactical expert. When Jack found him he quickly told him about the vaccine and Charlie's disappearance. Sayid listened carefully, absorbing every word while processing at the same time. Jack was unsure of his own ability to rescue Charlie but after conferring with Sayid, he began to feel more confident. Jack knew he had made the right choice going to him.

When Jack finished, Sayid spoke. "Where is this vaccine? I would like to see it."

"Follow me", answered Jack.

The two traveled deep into the woods until they came to an area where Jack stopped, crouched down and unearthed the small case buried in the ground. He handed it to Sayid.

Sayid inspected the vials inside. "You believe the only way they will give us Charlie is if we give them this vaccine, correct?"

Jack nodded. "Right, but that would leave us defenseless against them" he reminded the Iraqi.

Sayid held up one vial, driving his point home, "But what if they only think they're getting the vaccine? What if we were to substitute this liquid with something else?"

Jack studied Sayid's face, following his logic like a student at the feet of his master. "If we replaced the solution with something useless, we may get Charlie back before they realized it, but eventually they'd figure it out and they'd come back", countered Jack.

It was Sayid's turn to nod. "Correct, but what if we replaced the vaccine with something deadly?"

Jack looked at Sayid in shock as the man's meaning sunk in. He wanted to make sure he understood him correctly before he reacted. "A poison? Sayid, do you realize what you're saying? That would be murder! I won't do it."

"If we don't do it they will murder Charlie" Sayid reminded him. "You must remember Jack, we are at war. Our prisoner has escaped and if he has returned to his people they are likely very angry over what has happened to him. They will continue to be a threat to us unless we find some way to end this."

Jack felt weighed down equally by guilt over Charlie and the responsibility of leadership. Whether he liked it or not, the decision fell to him. If he refused and Charlie died, Jack would never forgive himself. The truth was, the presence of the Others on the island had become a constant danger in all of their lives. If Jack could be rid of that danger, not only for Charlie but for everyone's sakes, did he not have a duty to act?

Jack considered his options carefully, but they were few. He remembered his promise to Claire to bring Charlie back and his promise to Charlie to protect the vaccine. Then he remembered the oath he took as a physician to do no harm. Finally, he recalled Sawyer's admonition that Jack had to stop acting like they were still in civilization, when in fact they were in the wild where the rules of society no longer applied.

With a sigh and a heavy heart, Jack looked at Sayid and gave his silent approval.

**Chapter Ten**

"We're here" heard Charlie.

_Thank God for that,_ he thought. After countless hours of being half marched, half dragged through the jungle, anywhere sounded good, as long as it meant he could stop moving.

It had started with a rude awakening and had only gotten worse. Charlie had put up the fight of his life to no avail. He had succeeded in doing nothing but tearing his stitches open before they had threatened Claire and Aaron and shut him right down. Charlie had felt the warmth of fresh blood seep through the bandage under his shirt as he was lifted and hauled off.

With the hood denying him sight, Charlie tried to rely on other cues to sense his direction, but the jungle sounds were all the same. The snapping of twigs, the babble of the occasional brook, but Charlie was no survivalist. The most it did was give him something to focus on to take his mind off of his fear, pain and exhaustion, each sensation battling for dominance inside him.

The two men kept a constant grip on his arms, preventing him from either stumbling or bolting, but Charlie knew he'd never get far even if he tried. They were moving at a steady clip. At times his knees would buckle from fatigue despite his best efforts, only to find himself pulled up and along, no rest for the weary.

He never wanted water so badly. The gag and the hood were stifling; he felt the sweat run down his brow. Tied around his back, his hands had long grown numb, as if his body were attempting to block out this awful experience one piece at a time. Charlie actually considered the lack of sensation a blessing because the rope had cut into his wrists and he no longer felt the burn.

Charlie didn't know where he was until he felt himself being backed up against a beam or a post. Someone was untying his hands, causing a tingling to return to his limbs, but the feeling of freedom lasted for mere seconds before his arms were brought back around the post, crossed up higher and rebound. His teeth clenched tightly around the gag. He could neither move nor sit without dislocating his shoulders. Charlie now had to use all of his remaining energy to keep his legs from giving way beneath him.

Suddenly the hood was yanked from his head. Charlie felt a rush of fresh air that he tried to take in greedily but was still restricted by the gag. Then that was removed as well. It felt like heaven from the neck up. Charlie gasped, then shook his head and blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust. A man with grey hair and a short beard was standing before him. He was smiling but his eyes were cold.

"Maybe you'd like a little heroin to take the edge off, Charlie", laughed the man.

Charlie returned the look with an icy glare of his own. "Sod off" he growled, hoping like hell the man was bluffing. The way Charlie felt at that moment, if the man did offer him the drug he would probably take it.

The man just laughed louder and then left with his partner in tow. Charlie was left alone to ponder his situation. He knew they were after the vaccine. Despite the fix he was in, Charlie was glad he had given it to Jack. Now he wondered whether anyone was coming to rescue him.

More time passed. Charlie's eyelids grew heavy but he fought to stay awake. Each time he nodded off and his body dropped it would send a sharp pain through his shoulders, jolting him back to consciousness. Charlie just wanted it all to end one way or another, so he was relieved when a man entered, accompanied by the grey haired man who had taunted him earlier.

The man was short statured with close cropped brown hair and beady eyes. Charlie noticed his face was swollen and covered in cuts and bruises. He had an air of calm about him that was so incongruous for the circumstances that it frightened him.

"Hello, Charlie", greeted the man civilly with a nod of his head, as if Charlie had just been invited to tea. Charlie returned his greeting with a look of apprehension.

The man pressed on. He sounded almost kind. "Why don't you tell us where you've hidden the vaccine?"

Charlie looked down and said nothing. Suddenly the grey haired man stepped forward and sent his fist into Charlie's jaw. Charlie felt the pain in his face and his shoulders as his head jerked back. His mouth filled with a warm liquid and he spat blood onto the ground.

"I don't know where it is", muttered Charlie painfully, only to be rewarded with a second punch that made his ears ring.

"I don't know where it is!" he cried, repeating louder.

"But you know who does" answered the brown haired man. "What did you do with the case? Who did you give it to?"

"Go to hell" commanded Charlie with renewed strength fueled by anger, "Ethan's waiting for you there."

The man shook his head in an expression of regret before he spoke. "We're not bad people, Charlie. Ethan never wanted to kill you. You've been given the vaccine before. Ethan injected you with it before you were hanged. You weren't supposed to die. Your hanging was only meant as a warning so your friends would stay away. We were trying to help Claire's baby."

Charlie felt a flash of rage at the mention of Claire's name followed by another flash, this one of a deeply repressed memory. Ethan was grabbing him and putting an injector to his arm. It was true. Charlie knew he had been given the vaccine before. He had experienced a slight sensation of déjà vu when he had tested the vaccine out in his tent for Claire. Now he understood why.

He was brought back to the present by the brown haired man. He was asking the same question again. "Who has the vaccine?"

Charlie just shook his head. "Forget it" he said, avoiding eye contact.

"Does she have it?" the man asked.

Charlie felt the blood in his veins turn to ice water. The way he said it, with just the hint of a threat, was too unsettling. He fixed his gaze on the man and tried to keep his voice steady as he responded, "No. She doesn't know anything about it so you can bloody well leave her alone."

"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands" replied Henry, undeterred. "Unfortunately for you I recall clearly the experience of being your prisoner, so whatever happens here you can blame your pal Sayid." He and the grey haired man turned to leave. Before exiting the tent, the man turned back and said, "Maybe a few more hours on your feet will help jog your memory."

Charlie wondered to himself whether he would even last that long.

**Chapter Eleven**

Sayid marched through the jungle under cover of darkness with Jack. They were headed in the direction of the closest known location of the Others' camp. In one hand Sayid held a torch and in the other the case that now contained poisoned vaccine. Before setting out from the beach Jack had dispensed the real medication to all who wanted it, explaining what he knew about its purpose as well as the known side effects, based upon Charlie's experience.

Sayid had not been surprised by the response. After hearing about what had happened to Charlie, there were many interested takers. When the supply was spent they refilled the vials with a homemade botanical poison made with Sun's assistance. Since then, Sayid had locked his psyche into full military mode so that he would feel no remorse over his actions. Such was the cost of war.

In the relative solitude of the jungle, his thoughts returned to Charlie and he prayed they were not too late. He felt his own sense of responsibility for his captured friend. If the Others treated Charlie the way Sayid had treated their prisoner, he would feel at fault, although rationally he knew it likely would not have made a difference. These people wanted the vaccine and were willing to do anything to get it. He recalled the lengths they had gone to when they wanted Claire and her unborn child.

They reached a clearing and Jack stopped. Sayid looked around, but there were no marks or signs that distinguished this location from any other.

"Is this it?" asked Sayid.

Jack nodded. "This is the line we were warned not to cross. Their camp is somewhere over in that direction" he pointed. "We can either head out and hope we stumble across it or wait for them to meet us here."

Sayid made the decision for them both. "It would be easier to be invited in than to be caught infiltrating. We want to appear as if we are negotiating a trade, not attempting a rescue. Call for them."

Jack shouted out towards the tree line, "Hey! We're here and we have something you want. Are you coming out?"

They waited in silence. After a few minutes Jack yelled again. They waited some more. Sayid began to wonder whether they would have to find the camp on their own after all. Finally, when he was about to make the decision, the bearded man that Jack recognized from his last encounter stepped out of the trees.

"Well hey there Jack. Sayid", he greeted with mock warmth. "Wasn't that nice for you to come visiting bearing gifts? You really shouldn't have but I accept." He held out his hand but Sayid pulled the case back.

"No" said Sayid, "not until we see Charlie."

The bearded man nodded compliantly, "Fair enough. But you won't object if we blindfold you first would you? We like to keep our home private from encyclopaedia salesmen and all that. You understand."

Jack looked to Sayid for guidance. Sayid nodded, knowing it was the only way they would be allowed access to the Others' camp and to Charlie.

The bearded man pulled two cloth strips out of his pocket and approached them. "Well, I sure do appreciate it" he said and he tied the blindfolds around Jack and Sayid's eyes. Sayid felt the torch being taken from him.

The man held his arm gently and guided them in the direction of the Others' camp. Sayid tightened his grip on the case as he walked, making sure it wasn't taken from his hand before they were able to complete the trade.

After a short walk they were brought to a halt. Their blindfolds were removed and Sayid and Jack were standing at the entrance to a tent with a door. The bearded man opened the door and ushered them inside.

"He's all yours, we're done with him" said the bearded man, gesturing towards the interior of the tent. "Wait here" he commanded as he left.

In the center of the tent stood Charlie, tied against a post. Sayid couldn't tell if he was conscious. All he could see was a mop of blond hair. His head was down and he did not react to their entrance. Jack went over to him while Sayid went around back to remove the bonds. What he saw made him pause. He had seen something like this before and it concerned him. He said nothing for the moment while he set about loosening the rope.

While he worked he heard Jack. He was holding Charlie's head up, assessing his condition. "Charlie, can you talk to me?" he asked, face full of concern.

Sayid peered over and watched, anxious for his response while he worked at the rope. Charlie's eyes opened halfway, although one was nearly swollen shut. His lips were cracked with dried blood. He struggled to speak.

"Ja…" was all he managed to croak, which for them was enough.

"Hold on, we're getting you loose" said Jack, and he looked to Sayid for a status report.

Sayid nodded as the last of the rope came free. Charlie slumped into Jack's arms like a rag doll. Jack eased him to the ground while Sayid watched, still thinking about the rope. Charlie had made no effort to grab onto Jack or break his own fall.

Jack was trying to sit Charlie up and keep him conscious, leaning against his arm for support. "Sayid, hand me the water", he said. Sayid dug into his bag, came up with a water bottle and handed it to Jack, all the while concentrating on Charlie's arms which hung limp at his sides, covered in rope burns.

Jack held the bottle to his lips and Sayid watched him drink. After a moment, Sayid finally spoke. "Jack, see if he can move his hands or his arms."

Jack looked at Sayid, wondering what the man was thinking. Finally he turned back to Charlie, took the bottle away, and asked him, "Charlie, can you move your hands for me?"

Jack and Sayid both watched as Charlie was still, effort clearly in his face as he tensed. Finally he shook his head.

Jack picked up one of Charlie's arms carefully by the wrist and held it in his open palm. "Try again. A finger, anything. C'mon" he urged. Charlie closed his eyes tightly, gritted his teeth and stifled a groan. His fingers moved and his arm lifted slightly out of Jack's grasp. Charlie exhaled and dropped his arm back down. Sayid exhaled with him in relief. Any movement was a good sign.

Jack looked at Sayid. "Loss of circulation, probably for hours" he observed. "How did you know?"

Sayid answered, "I recognized the bonds. We used to tie up prisoners in Iraq that way for interrogation. It's designed to destroy circulation and induce paralysis. These people have military experience."

Jack started shaking Charlie's arms lightly trying to restore the blood flow. After a few minutes Charlie was moving on his own and seemed somewhat more alert, although still dehydrated and exhausted. After seeing what had been done to Charlie, Sayid was more convinced than ever that they were doing the right thing. These people were a menace that had to be stopped.

After some more water Charlie finally spoke. "Jack……the vaccine……don't give it to them" he pleaded.

"It's okay" Jack assured him, "we have a plan."

Before Jack had a chance to elaborate the door to the tent opened. Jack helped Charlie sit up against the post that he had previously been tied to. He gave him the water bottle which Charlie now held on his own and stood with Sayid.

Sayid recognized the man in charge immediately. It was their former prisoner, the one who had called himself Henry Gale, although in truth they never did learn his real name. He still bore the marks of his recent captivity.

He was accompanied by the bearded man and one other, neither of whom spoke. Sayid and Jack waited until Henry began. "All right gentlemen, you've got your friend back now let's have it." Clearly this man was all business.

Jack picked up the case from where he had set it on the ground and handed it over with a blank expression. From the ground Charlie spoke. "Jack, no" he protested.

Sayid was glad for Charlie's reluctance. It only served to make the charade more believable. Jack played along. "Charlie, we have to. It's the only way" he said.

Henry watched the exchange with interest and then accepted the vaccine. He opened the case and paused. Finally he looked at them and said. "How do we know you are giving us the right vaccine?" he asked.

Sayid began to grow nervous but kept all signs hidden. "What other vaccine would we have?" he countered.

"I don't know" said Henry, glancing down at Charlie, "but Charlie went through an awful lot of pain and suffering to protect it and you seem to be giving it up a bit too easily." He contemplated for a moment as he stared at Sayid and Jack, waiting for their expressions to break. Finally he said, "I think we need to test it out on one of you first to make sure. I nominate you Mr. Jarrah."

The men behind Henry stepped forward on command and came towards him. Sayid didn't know what to do, but he sensed the mission failing. He backed up instinctively but was stopped at the wall of the tent. The men each grabbed an arm and brought Sayid in front of Henry, forcing him down on his knees. Henry removed a vial and inserted it into the injector. Sayid felt his heart almost leap out of his chest at the sight of the killer solution, but still he found it impossible to confess. Then he heard Jack's voice coming to his rescue.

"Stop!" he cried, "Don't use it! It's not the vaccine. It's poison. We used the vaccine on our people and refilled the vials."

Sayid dropped his head in a quick prayer of thanks and sighed with relief at the admission even though it meant their plot was foiled. At least for the moment he still had his life. Only then did he worry about what would happen next.

**Chapter Twelve**

He wasn't surprised. He suspected they would try and pull something. The plane people always acted like they were smarter than everyone else, but since their arrival on the island they had done nothing but commit one blunder after another.

"Let him go" the boss commanded. His henchmen released their grip on Sayid who stood and backed away immediately.

Now they all looked frightened. By the look on Charlie's face it seemed he didn't even know what his friends had done. Now they were all wondering what the consequences would be.

But the boss was a practical man, and he always saw the big picture, which at the moment involved the vaccine, and securing it for his people for the future. He decided the reasonable approach was best. He softened his expression.

"We are not your enemies" he began, "the vaccine you had belonged to us. You had no right to take it."

"Tell us what it is" asked Jack, clearly emboldened by the boss' non-confrontational stance.

"The vaccine is the result of years of research by the Hanso Foundation as part of its Life Extension Project" he explained. "It causes cells to regenerate at an astronomical rate. I don't have to tell you what that means. You've seen the results of it in your friend here" he said as he pointed to Charlie, still sitting, listening while regaining his strength.

"Is that why you stabbed me?" Charlie asked, voice still ragged, his anger returning with his vigor, "To see if the bloody thing worked?"

He looked at Charlie but ignored his question and continued, ever the man in charge. What he had to say would have to be explanation enough. "We had our own stock until it ran out. We haven't seen a supply drop in months, until you turned up with that case". He held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture to the two men standing, "We're all in the same boat here. We've lost people too and we have no wish to endure any more deaths."

Sayid finally spoke up, reminding the boss that he had been listening very carefully, "Why should we trust you after all that you have done?"

He smiled at that. _These people had some nerve. _"All that _we_ have done? We could say the same thing about you. All we ask is for what is rightfully ours. Your camp is much larger than ours, the vaccine must be given every nine days to remain effective and you will never have enough for all of your people. It's of no use to you."

"So what exactly do you want?" asked Jack, anxious to get to the bottom line.

He responded, fully prepared to make his demand, "It appears you are still receiving regular supply drops on your side of the island. We want all future shipments of the vaccine. If you agree, we'll let the three of you go and we'll stay away from your camp. But don't try and trick us again, because if you do, your entire camp will feel the consequence, and I know how badly you want to keep your people safe, Jack. We want the same thing for our own."

They stood in silence while his offer was considered. Jack and Sayid appeared to be deciding whether his words contained a threat, or whether he could be trusted at face value. In the end, they must have understood that the truth was immaterial. Unless they accepted the offer, they would never be allowed to leave the camp alive after what they had tried to pull. They really had no choice.

Jack looked at Sayid and then at the boss. "Okay" he said, "Let us go and it's a deal."

**Chapter Thirteen**

They were being set free. Charlie's ordeal was over. He'd feel like celebrating if only he didn't feel so awful. "You will be escorted back to the line in the jungle," said their leader. "You will be free to return to your camp from there."

The man's two goons came towards them with blindfolds at the ready, clutching them tightly in their raised fists like loaded weapons. Jack and Sayid seemed unbothered and accepting of the routine, but Charlie felt panic in his chest and his throat. The man with the short beard who had taunted and hit Charlie earlier was approaching him.

Charlie didn't care what his intentions were, he wasn't about to let that monster get at him again. He stood as quickly as he could, fought off the dizziness that struck his head and staggered backwards.

"No bloody way!" he cried out, "Don't touch me!"

Jack turned at Charlie's apprehension. Then he turned back to the bearded man who stood frozen, avoiding a confrontation.

"Here" said Jack quietly to the man, "give me the blindfold, I'll do it."

Jack took the strip of cloth and turned to Charlie, who had backed himself into a corner protectively. "Charlie, trust me. It's alright" he said, "This was how they brought us here. They just don't want us to be able to find their camp. They won't hurt you again, I promise."

Charlie was still fearful but he trusted Jack. His eyes darted back and forth between the Others and his friends, making sure that the bearded man was keeping his distance.

"Only you or Sayid, Jack. No one else" Charlie begged.

"You got it" Jack assured him. He showed Charlie the blindfold, "I'm putting this on you now, okay? Then we're going home." Jack waited for Charlie's approval and then applied the blindfold as gently as possible, mindful of his bruised eye. Charlie took a deep slow breath to avoid hyperventilating. When Jack finished he asked him, "Is that alright?"

Charlie nodded, "Let's just get out of here."

Charlie waited in darkness while Jack and Sayid were blindfolded. Then he felt someone grip his arm.

Charlie flinched and pulled back, "Jack?" he asked.

"It's me, Charlie" answered Jack, regaining his grasp "They're leading us out. We're going now."

Walking back to the clearing felt too much like his recent abduction and jungle death march and Charlie had to swallow down the anxiety as it kept rising up inside him. He was trembling under Jack's grip and sweating under his shirt. His chest began to throb and Charlie remembered his torn stitches that still needed repair.

After a mercifully short distance, they came to a stop. They were told to count to ten slowly and then remove the blindfolds. Despite the instruction, Charlie couldn't stand it another second. He reached up and tore the cloth strip away from his eyes. It was still dark. The three men stood alone. Charlie checked his watch and saw that sunrise was still several hours away. Now that the excitement had died down, he was suddenly overcome with fatigue. He hadn't slept or eaten in the last 24 hours. He swayed, feeling lightheaded, and then regained his balance.

Jack and Sayid removed their blindfolds. They both looked at Charlie with concern. He must have looked dreadful. As badly as Charlie wanted to get back to their camp and to Claire, he knew he wasn't going to make it without a few hours of sleep first.

Jack picked up on Charlie's unsteady stance and asked the question that begged, "Are you going to be able to make it back to camp?" he asked.

"Eventually" said Charlie, as he sagged down onto the soft grass. It felt like the most luxurious bed in the world. "After I get some sleep."

"Probably a good idea" agreed Jack, "we'll head back after sunrise."

When Charlie awoke the sun was overhead. Apart from some residual pain in his chest and bruised face he was feeling better. He sat up and saw Jack and Sayid talking a few feet away. When they noticed he was up, Jack came over with some water.

"Ready to go?" Jack asked him, extending his hand.

"Yeah" said Charlie, accepting the water bottle and a lift up.

As they walked, they discussed the vaccine. They were handing the Others a huge advantage over them by giving it away. Charlie wondered if they did the right thing.

He turned to his friends. "Do you think they can be trusted to leave us alone like they said they would?" Charlie asked them.

"Probably not" answered Sayid, "There was something about that man I did not trust. I believe that they will be back the next time there is something they want."

"That's not exactly what I wanted to hear, Sayid" said Charlie, forcing a grin to sell the joke when inside he still trembled.

Sayid looked at him and smiled. "I cannot decide if I envy them or not" he said, "A lifetime on this island could be a blessing or a curse. It may sound depressing, but death may prove to be the only means of escape in the end."

"Now that's definitely not what I wanted to hear" Charlie muttered.

It was Jack's turn to speak and he must have felt a change of subject was in order. "Charlie, with your history it still concerns me that you would inject yourself with the vaccine in the first place without knowing what it was. I understand why you did it but promise me the next time you find any mystery medication that you show it to me before you decide to use it."

Charlie could see that Jack was serious and deeply concerned. He made no further attempt to justify his actions after all that had happened. He just nodded in conciliatory agreement. He was sorry for all that he had put his friends through over his indiscretion.

A few hours later they returned to the beach. For the first time, Charlie thought of it as home, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Then he saw Claire and realized it was a good thing.

She turned when they approached and Charlie was treated to the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. She ran to him and hugged him but Charlie stiffened in surprise. He didn't mean to but he still felt jittery and needed his physical space.

Claire seemed to sense the tension because she backed off, confused. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Charlie paused, not sure how to answer. He didn't want to upset her over everything that had happened.

Jack must have sensed his dilemma and spoke. "Charlie, before you go, could I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

They stepped aside while Claire waited. Jack spoke softly, keeping their conversation private, "A word of advice? Talk to her. Tell her everything."

Charlie was reluctant. He shook his head, "Jack, I……"

Jack cut him off, "She was worried about you. Stop trying to protect her and let her be there for you, she can handle it. And you could use it." He smiled, "Consider it Doctor's orders."

Jack turned and left. Charlie was once again alone with Claire. Her happiness had turned to concern while she waited. Charlie went over to her and took her hand. They walked to her tent a few feet away and sat.

Then Charlie began. "It all started when I found this case…"

**THE END**


End file.
